How Do You Know?
by what-happened-in-peru
Summary: Canada encounters France at the end of the G8 summit but didn't expect to be noticed. France insists they spend some time together and Canada finds he actually doesn't mind. He likes having a friend, maybe even more than a friend. But how do you know when you've become more than friends? Franada fluff. Human names used later. Rated T for France being France-y.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. (I used to write really formal disclaimers but I'm tired of that.) You can find French translations at the bottom if you need them. :3**

**~Written by B.**

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As always, Canada sat through the G8 annual summit going unnoticed, even though he _was_ the host. Germany shouted angry things and America rambled on about being the hero. It almost seemed like Kumajiro got more attention than he did. Not that he minded, really. He was used to blending in and letting others be the centre of attention.

As the meeting came to a close and the bored countries filed out of the room, Canada sat back and eavesdropped on everyone's conversations. That was one perk of being invisible.

"But Germanyyy~ Wait up, we should go out for pasta later! I know of this new restaurant near here-"

"America you bloody prat, you must be off your rocker! That'll never work, why do you have to be so irrational about everything going on around you? Listen to me-"

"Don't push, aru! I'm the oldest, I go first-"

"Kolkolkol you are so entertaining when you fight, da? I look forward to seeing you tear each other apart-"

Canada smiled. He liked listening to the others squabble; they were so silly. Then he noticed what was off. France hadn't left the room like he usually did. Canada was usually the last one out. He'd push in the chair that his brother had always left out, clear the chalkboards, and turn out the lights. No one even noticed or appreciated how when he did things like this, but it was in his nature. This time, however, France had his head rested on his arms. He seemed to be taking a nap.

Canada approached him. "Um, hello?" he said, slightly softer than usual. "Hello?" He tapped him on the shoulder. "Uh, we're supposed to leave now. Please get up.." he said while trying to shake him awake. He sighed, biting his lip. Taking a deep breath, he slammed his hand down on the table and shouted, "LEVEZ-VOUS!"

France popped up. He looked around the whole room before noticing Canada. "Oh, desolé, my sweet Canada. I simply dozed off. These events are so tiresome, non?"

_He remembered my name,_ thought Canada. He stepped back a bit and blushed, not used to the attention.

"I could use a cup of coffee. You know of any good places nearby? I don't want to walk too far."

He hesitated. France was right, it would be unpleasant to walk in all the slush. The summit had been oddly scheduled; it was normally in May or June but most of the countries had a very busy spring coming, so they bumped it earlier, to March. "Well, um, I think there might be a Tim Horton's on the corner. They're usually not hard to find.."

"Fine, then we'll go there. Allons-y." he gestured for Canada to go first.

Turning out the lights, Canada stepped past France and out the door, looking back to make sure he closed the door. "Okay then," he mumbled hesitantly. After stepping into the brisk air, he scanned the block for one of Canada's favourite coffee franchises. Of course, there was one right the street. He had a sudden confident air about him as he strolled towards the entrance and threw open the door.

They waited in line, side by side. Canada, with his shoulders squared and his chin up, looked at the menu and ruffled through his wallet for the change. He smiled. France looked down at him, perplexed. Never had he seen the quiet, polite country look so self-assured. Curious, he asked, "What are you getting?"

"Large double-double and a Canadian maple dipped donut," replied Canada. He sounded like he had said that line a thousand times before. Maybe he had. "And you?"

"Hmm…" France looked over the menu, nothing in particular catching his eye.

"They have a Cold Stone Creamery here. The ice cream is really good, I suggest the Founder's Favourite; you like pecans, right?"

"It seems to me it's a bit cold out for ice cream, non?"

Canada shrugged. "So?" He shook his head as if what France had said was silly. They stepped up to the counter. Canada robotically delivered his order, then looked up at France.

"I suppose I'll just have the same as you then." Canada nodded at him and dug out some more change. "Euh, non. I'll pay for both of us, it's fine."

"Eh? Nah, I got it."

"Shush," said France quietly, turning to Canada and putting his finger to his lips. He gave the cashier the money and grabbed his donut and coffee. "Why don't we sit down?" he asked.

"Oh, uh, we could leave. Thanks so much for the coffee and donut, but I'm sure you have somewhere to be.." muttered Canada.

Flipping his hair, France exclaimed, "Oh, no no no, that just won't do!" He grabbed Canada's wrist, careful not to spill his coffee, and tugged him over to the table by the window.

"Wha-" Almost falling over, Canada hastily followed.

We sat down at the table by the window, the one in the corner. I had to admit, France had good taste in tables. This was my usual place. He was sitting unusually close to me. Maybe that's just the way they sit in France. It wasn't uncomfortable, really. Just… different. I nibbled at my donut, not wanting to eat it all at once. I'd save that for when I had a box of assorted.

I looked over at him. Why had he been staring at me? Usually people didn't bother to give me a second glance. "Um, is your coffee okay?"

"Hm?" He seemed to have zoned out, lost in thought. "Oh, but of course." He took another sip, almost finishing it. Tilting his head, he seemed to space out again, still looking at me.

I fidgeted, not used to people looking at me at all. "Oh, I almost forgot! It's March. Ever heard of Roll Up the Rim?" I took the last sip from my coffee and took off the top.

"Euh, non? Qu'est-ce que c'est?" France asked, smirking. He looked almost… amused. Like he was humouring me.

"Um, okay. Well, here. Your cup has one too. You take the top off and peel up the rim around the cup. It'll say whether you've won something or not. Every March, Tim's gives away a bunch of prizes; sometimes stuff like a car or TV, sometimes just a free coffee or donut. Go ahead, roll up your rim." I nodded at him.

France raised his eyebrows smiled at me. "All right," he said, picking up his cup. "Hm. 'FREE COFFEE.' Well that's nice," he said, shrugging.

"Okay, now me." I rolled up the rim of my empty coffee cup and frowned. "'PLEASE TRY AGAIN.'" I sighed. "Well, I get one every day so maybe tomorrow."

I looked up at him. He seemed even closer to me than before. "You're so cute," he said with a smirk. "So excited about trivial things. "

Um, what? Did he just say I was cute? I blushed, not sure if I should be flattered or offended. I didn't really know how to respond to France's odd comment.

"Haha, your cheeks just got so red! How adorable," he chuckled, trying to conceal his sudden grin. I tensed at his words. He may have had too much wine with breakfast, I thought. My head snapped up as he spoke again. "These donuts tasted fine, but they're not very filling. A bigger lunch is in order, indeed. Especially for such a tiny thing," he said, cocking his head to the side and looking me up and down. "Come to my place, oui? You shall experience fine dining at its best."

I slid my chair a little further away from him, trying to be discreet. "Um, well.. That's not necessary, really." Kuma peeked his head out my bag at the mention of travel. "See… um… Kumajuno here gets motion sickness so it might be best if we stayed home…"

"Nonsense," he replied, waving away the notion. "Surely you travel all the time. There's no harm in just visiting for the afternoon, is there?" He leaned forward, forcing me to look in his eyes. "S'il vous plaît," he started. Then, whispering in my ear, he added, "mon petit Mathieu?"

My eyes grew wide. With my heart pounding, I asked, "H-how did you know my r-real name?"

He smiled mysteriously. "My secret," he replied, winking. "Now, come." He threw out our trash and took me by the hand, leading me out the door.

I didn't want to, but he just looked so… hopeful earlier.

How could I have said no?

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A/N: I have some issues with tenses is you haven't noticed already. Present tense, past tense, sometimes I'm just not sure. Also, I tend to switch between first person from different characters' POVs and some sort of… omniscient power. If it's really bothersome, tell me and I'll try to control it better. This is also my first time writing any romance that isn't really light GerIta so if you'd like to give me feedback that'd be great! I tend to go with the flow with writing so if you have suggestions for future chapters I'd love to hear them in the reviews! Thanks!

Translations:

Levez-vous - Get up

Desolé - Sorry

Allons-y - Let's go

Qu'est-ce que c'est? - What is it?

S'il vous plaît - Please

Mon petit Mathieu - My little Matthew


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia~ Or do I…? No, I don't. I promise. **

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The trip was a quiet one, but the comfortable silence didn't last once we reached France's house. I followed him inside as he sauntered through the door, gracefully placing his coat on the coat stand. After gently closing the door, I trailed behind him politely as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Oh, come now; stop standing so awkwardly in the doorway! Sit down, take your coat off," he said, motioning towards the kitchen table.

"Thank you," I replied. I preferred to keep my coat on, but France obviously didn't approve. He frowned. "Oh, um, right." I shrugged my jacket off my shoulders and onto the chair behind me. France chuckled and lifted the coat from behind me, tossing it on the hook on the coat stand by his own. When he returned, he leaned against the counter and smiled.

"Sandwiches alright with you, Mathieu? I just ran to the market this morning before the meeting."

I shifted uncomfortably at the use of my real name. "S-sure." He nodded and spun around, immediately beginning to gather the fixings for the sandwiches. He moved with grace, giving the occasional look to me. His expression was kind and caring. No one had ever looked at me like that before.

Only a few minutes later, France whirled around with a plate of sandwiches in hand. I leaned forward to grab one and sat for a few moments, nibbling on it. Eventually, though, I threw manners out the window, digging in. "Mm, thanks so much," I said. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until then.

France giggled, "Don't talk with your mouth full, mon petit." When France had eaten his half, he looked at me expectantly. "Surely you're not full already?"

"I-I don't want to impose. It was so nice of you to offer, I shouldn't be eating so much…"

"Non, it's no trouble at all. To be honest, you look like you could use the nourishment. Have you been eating enough lately?"

The question caught me off guard. "Um, yes, I think so…"

He nodded slowly, and then gave a sigh. "Mon Dieu, I am not so good at this am I?"

"Good at what?"

"Subtlety." He flashed a weak smile, and then leaned over the table. "I shall just speak my mind then, non? I had wanted an excuse to ask you to eat with me again. I enjoy your company, mon chéri. Is it fair to say you think the same of me?"

"Well, sure France. It's nice to have a friend." _Or to have anyone notice me at all_, I thought.

"Or perhaps more than a friend, Mathieu. Would you give me the honour of dining with me again sometime soon?"

_More than a friend? Dining? Is he asking me out? _"M-more than a friend, y-you say? This, ah, well this is unexpected."

"Is it? I thought I made myself fairly obvious before," he laughed inwardly. "Or, have you not noticed?"

I tilted my head in silent questioning. What was he getting at?

"Mon petit Mathieu, I believe I have been dropping hints over the course of the year! I know I haven't said much, but did my all of my fond looks go unnoticed?"

The idea that France liked me churned over and over in my head. How had I been so oblivious before? Then I became annoyed. Why had he waited so long? France, _France, _the country of love, had put off telling me that he liked me over the course of a year and I continued to be invisible to everyone? "Well why now, eh? Took you long enough. Why couldn't you have just told me? You're supposed to be the country of love; you seem to be with someone new each week. Why in the world would you find speaking to me difficult?"

"You just don't understand. Don't you see? Those meant nothing to me. They weren't real relationships, not like what I long to have with you. I understand that we haven't talked much, so all I ask is that you give me a chance, oui?" His look held something I thought I'd never see—almost pleading. He quickly recovered though, putting on a cool and collected face. "Just a date, that's all I ask. This Saturday? What do you say, mon chéri?"

I hesitated. I wasn't one to take such things lightly. I didn't even like France all that much. He seemed to ignore me just as much as anyone else, save for remembering my name a bit more often. He and Britain both had such high expectations of me in the past, even though I was mistaken for America anyways. I didn't even know what we would do date wise if we _did_ go out. I never liked fancy restaurants or movies or any of the traditional romantic date scenarios. In fact, there was a hockey game on this Saturday that I sure as hell wasn't going to miss.

At the silence, France asked in surprise, "Did you already have plans?" As if that would be the only reason for my hesitation.

"Well actually, there's a game on that I have no intention of missing."

His shoulders fell in slight disappointment. "What kind of game, football?"

I almost lost it right then and there. I clenched my fists and took a breath. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed and said, "No, _hockey_. Look, I appreciate your interest but I don't think I'm really ready for a relationship and I happen to be busy so–"

"Nonsense, why don't I come over? I've never seen a hockey game before and I could have a chance to spend time with you. Everyone wins! How about that?" He seemed all too eager. I found it confusing, this wasn't like him. He was supposed to be on the receiving end of these almost desperate looks.

My jaw dropped. He had _never_ seen a hockey game? Well, that settled it. Feelings or not, this man had to see the game. "Fine," I replied finally, "you can come over and watch it with me. Only because you've never seen one, got it? No promises about a relationship or future dates…"

France gave me a triumphant look and smirked. "Onhonhon, challenge accepted, Mathieu. I'm confident that I will win your heart by the end of hockey season. See you Saturday night, oui?"

"Oui."

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A/N: Hallo peoples! Yes, I'm back! It's been way too long, I know, I'm sorry, don't hate me Dx I actually know where this fic is going now so I think it should be easier to write and I won't leave it alone for so long.

So, it was interesting writing France so desperate. I understand that he's almost never like this and is usually the expert with love. Lemme explain. I feel like there's a possibility he doesn't know all that much about how to act around people he likes because generally it's other people throwing themselves at his feet.

Finally, please do review :3 It's always so nice to see that people have something to say. And trust me, I'd like all the motivation I can get. Otherwise, you peoples might never find out what happens on their date~

~B.

Translations:

Mon petit - My little

Mon Dieu - My God

Mon chéri - My darling


End file.
